How to Get My Husband on My Side

Anyhow, he was undoubtedly a strange man.

Despite the way Cesare obsessed over me and clung to me, he didn’t show the slightest hesitation using me as a pawn in his political schemes. For all I know, maybe he just thought of me as another one of his objects.

Three years ago, when I’d just gotten accustomed to the fact that I’d become fifteen year-old Rudbeckia, I made the mistake of refusing my arranged marriage to the Duke of Rembrandt.

With the foreknowledge that the duke would later become a key figure in the demise of my family, I invalidated our marriage right before the wedding was scheduled to happen using the humiliating pretense of ‘bodily incompatibility’.

I wanted to do whatever I could to protect my new family that had treated me so well and stop whatever enemies would later plot against them.

But as soon as I expressed my unwillingness to marry him, Father’s usual warm expression morphed into an ice-cold frown that made my body tremble with fear in a way I was all too familiar with. That night I was locked in my room and beaten by Cesare until I nearly passed out from pain.

It was after those events repeated themselves a couple times that I realized there was no difference between my old and new life. Maybe, in part, that was also because I knew that Rudbeckia wasn’t actually the pope’s biological daughter.

Rudbeckia’s biological mother—my mother—was killed as soon as she gave birth, before the pope met his second official lover, Carmen. Most people around me were already suspicious that I wasn’t the pope’s legitimate child, and, well, since I’d already read the story myself, I knew their suspicions were correct.

Putting on a facade and pretending to be family with people that didn’t share a drop of blood with me, it was identical to my previous life. And after I became Rudbeckia, my anorexia manifested itself again as well.

“It hurts me to see you go too. This’ll be the last time something like this happens, I promise,” said Cesare.

“But I heard it’s dangerous there…”

“Dangerous? You’ll be guarded around-the-clock by a legion of elite knights, you have nothing to worry about. I’ll try to come visit you as often as I can too. It won’t be that bad, every place has something to like about it. Just think of it as a six-month-long vacation.”

“Six months? It’s really going to be six months?”

I already knew exactly how long it was going to be but I pretended to be surprised anyway.

He chuckled and wrapped a lock of my hair around his finger, pulling it up to his nose.

“Yeah, you just have to make it six months. He won’t do anything to you regardless, so you don’t need to worry.”

That wasn’t what I was worried about.

“You’ll really come visit me often?”

“Yeah.”

I prayed that he wouldn’t.

it was. Even if I refused to poison his little sister, someone

going to stop my husband’s little sister from being poisoned in six months, I had to start by convincing my husband and the other people around me, all of whom passionately hated me, that I was harmless—that

it wasn’t any different than how I’d

***

Izek van Omerta.

technique, he was given the title of knight at fifteen years old and at age seventeen

a paladin, he became even more renown and celebrated amongst the people, but, because of his stubborn, headstrong personality,

friend, Flaya

after she became the duchess of Omerta and gave birth, she ended up killing herself while her children were still young. It seems

that a soul who committed suicide was destined for eternal damnation,

I had read the novel that my memory of a lot of the story was vague at best. I wish

Izek had obediently accepted his marriage with Rudbeckia wasn’t due to any sort of coercion

on their northern border, and, with

Britannia’s elite knights—that was the point of these political

the wedding. A huge dowry and an assortment of elaborate gifts were sent

***

to it, but every time I looked in the mirror I was still startled

resemble my original body in the slightest. The only thing even remotely similar

about how I looked different than the other kids around me, but, funnily enough, there are times now when I miss my

a warm smile,

the standards of this world, a fully-grown adult, but I was still considered and treated like a child in many ways. Like how Cesare would always sit me in his lap and pat my head like I was some

a wonderful bride, my darling.

“Father…”

be upset. Don’t cry, my dear.

this would be the last time we ever saw each other. Of course I cried though, that was

my delicate face

going to miss you

would send your brother to accompany you on the trip if I could, but it’s impossible

visitors from the North watch our family like vultures. Did Father really not care about the rumors they would spread about me

Am I the

“Enzo.”

here

Enzo’s fiery temper and all the mischief he caused, I never

“I’ll miss you.”

I’ll miss